


Lonely is not being alone; it's the fear that no one cares.

by Mycroffed



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Bondlock, M/M, Mainly 00Q, Non Spectre compliant, Non season 4 compliant, Q is a Holmes, The other couples are in the background, slow burn?, smutfree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-08-08 12:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7758469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mycroffed/pseuds/Mycroffed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During an MI6 crisis, Q gets kidnapped. Can Bond deal with the protective siblings while he tries to find Q again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I will write as regularly for this as I can.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Mycroffed.

Q didn't go out on missions. He was the man who stayed behind at HQ and who managed everything.  He was the man who stayed in London and collected all the evidence so he could help the agents appropriately. And it wasn't just because he was terrified of flying, though, of course, that helped. So when he did go into the field, he was always out of his comfort zone.

 

But today it was different. Today, nobody had been prepared for a mission. Today, everybody was acting on instinct. And Q's instinct was to stay as close to Bond as he could.

 

It had started as a normal day: Bond had returned from another mission, so Q had been able to grumble at him for destroying the equipment he had made for him once again. M had called him into the office to talk about Q-branch's budged. His minions had handed him a gun that didn't work anymore - one that /he/ designed as well - and he fixed it within mere seconds. But all round, the day was pretty calm.

 

By six pm, most of the people were starting to go home. By nine pm, the only people who were still in their office or hanging around Q-Branch, were Q himself, Bond - for some reason, didn't he have a home to go to? - Tanner, Eve and M. It wasn't that surprising that it was this group of people who worked the last, though generally Bond made his way back home by seven pm, after dinner. Especially if he couldn't convince Q to eat anything. But no, 007 was still hanging around, annoying Q and making his work take even longer than usual. (Though the Quartermaster had to admit that he didn't mind the man's presence all that much.)

 

Bond was leaning on his desk, poking at something on his desk. He had been asking about all sort of different things all day long already, spending all his free time with Q - why, the man had no idea. Q slapped away his hand and glared at him for a moment.

 

"What did I do to deserve that?" Bond raised an eyebrow at the Quartermaster, pretending as if he didn't know what the hell he had been doing all day.

 

"You know what you did, 007." By then, the agent had picked up one of the prototypes and Q just /had/ to snatch it out of his hand again. "Just as you know you are not supposed to touch anything that I haven't put into your hands. It could be dangerous."

 

"Even the things you do hand me could be dangerous." Bond smirked ever so slightly, looking rather smug as he thought that he had actually made a point.

 

"I have to do /something/ to keep you on your toes, don't-"

 

But before Q could finish his sentence, alarms started blaring, alerting the two of them. The agent immediately dropped the toy he had been playing with and grabbed his gun, standing protectively in front of Q, as if the Quartermaster needed protection. (He didn't. He had some toys of himself to defend himself if it really was necessary.)

 

In a normal situation, Q would have rolled his eyes at him and stepped from behind him, but this wasn't a normal situation and he realised fully well that James had more experience with these kind of things. So he simply stayed where he was, glancing around to see if the threat was in the room with them. But no, they were alone. So they made their way over to M's office.

 

The man wasn't there. Q suggested that they split up to increase the chance of finding him while Bond rolled his eyes at him and told him it was the stupidest idea and that they would end up being kidnapped. The Quartermaster put his foot down though and told the agent that he could defend himself and that it would all be fine. So he needed to shut up and believe in Q.

 

After a brief glaring contest, the two of them split up to go look for M.

 

 

 

\--~--

 

 

 

Q had been walking for a couple of minutes before Bond contacted him for the first time. His voice was rather emotionless and professional, while Q was pretty sure that if he would open his mouth, he would stutter in nervousness. Probably. (But then again, how could he know, he hadn't spoken yet.)

 

"Have you found anyone yet?"

 

"No, Bond. I would have let you know if I had, you know this. We agreed on it before we split up." Oh, look at that, just sass, but no trembling of his voice. Good.

 

"Doesn't mean that I can't ask it again."

 

"I haven't found anyone yet, 007. Relax." Q found himself roll his eyes, even though the man couldn't see him. He was about to make another snarky remark when he heard a noise coming from his left side. "Hold on, I'm hearing something. I'm going to check it out."

 

"Do you have your gun with you?" Bond asked, worry filling his voice - or was that just his imagination.

 

"Of course I have it with me." Q lied - he had left it back in his office, /damnit/. He should have brought it with him. "Don't worry about me, James. I can take care of myself."

 

"I know that-" Bond said, sounding annoyed. "Look, I still think we shouldn't have split up. It's not right, the building is too empty. Where is everybody? Is this a test? Have they already evacuated the building? It's not right, Q. Please just be careful."

 

Q had ventured off into the direction of the noise while Bond had been talking. He had walked through the empty hall, glancing in every direction as he tried to find the source of the noise that he had heard earlier, only humming softly in agreement when Bond was done speaking.

 

"Q- Did you hear me?"

 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I mean. I'll be careful. I promise. Just give me a minute, I'm almost there." The Quartermaster glanced around the corner and blinked a few times as there was just a tiny mechanic mouse bumping against the wall. "It was just a little toy mouse." Q laughed softly as he walked over to it, picking it up. "A poorly constructed toy mouse as well. I could make a much better one." He turned around, still looking at the mouse, so he didn't spot the man standing right in front of him. "Bond, I'm coming back to-" He quite literally bumped into the man, blinking a few times to make sure that he wasn't imagining things. "Bond, get out, we're not alo-"

 

The man placed a hand over Q's mouth, stopping him from talking while the agent yelled over the coms at Q - he probably thought that Q had been knocked unconscious or something.

 

But Q wasn't going to just let the man do this, so he opened his mouth and bit the man's hand as hard as possible. Immediately, his mouth was free again and he yelled at Bond as well, telling him to get out, /get out/, he needed to get away and make sure he was safe, for god's sake!

 

But once again, Q was interrupted halfway through his message, this time not with a hand covering his mouth, but with a hit of a club - or something similar, the Quartermaster couldn't see it - on the back of his head.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading (:
> 
> Mycroffed

"Get out, /get out/, you need to get away and make sure-" When Q was cut off and Bond could vaguely hear something fall onto the floor, worry rushed through him.  What had happened to the Quartermaster? Bond quickly checked if it was the communicator that had broken or if something had happened to the man he considered his friend. But no, the gadget still worked perfectly.

 

"Q? Q! Say something, I'm giving up on you." He really shouldn't, but he couldn't help it. Besides, Q would appreciate it if he could hear it. "Come on, Quartermaster, if this is some kind of joke to make me pay for all the gadgets I broke, then I've learned my lesson. I'll try not to do it again. Now just- reply." When Q still did not reply after all that, James bit his lip before he added a soft 'please'.

 

But no, there was still no reaction from the young man. So rather than listening to what Q had told him, he simply ran into the building again. He was going to find his friend, no matter what. But the building was abandoned. Everyone seemed to have disappeared, though they had still been there five minutes ago. Where had they gone? Had they just taken Q and gotten out of there?

 

Bond continued to explore the building for hours until M finally called him back, having come to the same conclusion as Bond. Q was gone. And no matter how much Bond hated to think that, he had no choice but to accept it. He made his way to temporary MI6 HQ - they were there way too often lately - and made his way to M's office to report what had happened.

 

As soon as Bond arrived, M called him in, the worried look on the agent's face mirrored on his boss'. For once, 007 didn't even consider being an annoying little cocky shit, like he was most of the time. The two of them just exchanged worried glances as they exchanged the details that they knew about how the Quartermaster had disappeared.

 

"I shouldn't have listened to him. He could still be here if I hadn't listened or hesitated." Bond said, his voice filled with regret.

 

"You did all you could, James." The other said. "It's possible that you-"

 

But before he could finish his sentence, Eve stormed in without knocking, trying to announce the two men who followed immediately after her. One of them, the one with the curly black hair, looked furious and took long strides towards M's desk, slamming a hand down on the man's desk.

 

"Where is my brother?!" He bellowed, clearly not accepting an 'I don't know' from either of the men. "Where is Sherrinford?"

 

The other man followed a bit more slowly and leaned forwards on his umbrella. "What my brother is trying to say in his own, unique way is that we have received the news that our brother - your Quartermaster - has been kidnapped. We're here to offer our services to try and find him before anything happens to him."

 

Bond jumped up to protest as the man slammed his hand on the desk, getting ready to shout back that he didn't even know a 'Sherrinford', but the second one made him stop in his tracks. Q's real name was something as ridiculous as that? No wonder he didn't want to talk about it.

 

"If you two are the people who are worried most about him, then he is in big trouble." The black haired man snapped. "This one didn't even know our brother's name." He looked at Bond with a look that told him that he was a complete idiot for not having figured it out.

 

"Sherlock." The ginger haired brother placed a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down. We're all worried about our brother. There's no need to attack this-" He glanced at the agent judgingly, almost as if he was trying to determine which word he'd use to describe him. "-possible ally. I'm sure they're already doing everything they can."

 

Bond felt the need to tell the two men that he wasn't useless, no matter how they made him feel. "I searched the entire building where they took him. He's definitely not there anymore."

 

Sherlock snapped his head around to glare at the man. "Oh. You have searched the entire building, huh? Well _that's_ useful. What would Sherrinford do in there? Play hide and seek? I'm pretty sure that my brother is more mature than that. Mycroft, let's leave again. These people clearly can't help us find our brother."

 

"Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes." M finally spoke up. "I can assure you that we are doing anything and everything we can do to assure that your brother returns. We have no desire to lose our Quartermaster again, not now that he is finally starting to completely fit in. So we offer every agent we have at our disposal to help in the search for Sherrinford."

 

The names finally clicked in James' head and he realised who exactly Q must be. "He's a Holmes'?" He muttered, still trying to process this information. "Sherlock Holmes is his brother? Well, that explains a lot."

 

"And what exactly does that mean?" Of course Sherlock immediately jumped on that, glaring at Bond. These two people were not getting along at all. "Be very careful about what you're saying next, _agent._ "

 

"Why don't you d _educe_ it yourself, oh great detective?" Bond crossed his arms and leaned back a bit, waiting for the other to reply to that.

 

Before Sherlock replied, he looked at the other two people in the room, sending them a look that said 'You heard that? He gave me permission, so if he's upset later, it's not my fault. He was the one who gave me permission to do this'.

 

"You're one of the oldest double-oh agents who's still on active duty, which either means that you're really good or that they haven't quite found a way to tell you that they want to get rid of you. You think they need you and that makes you feel good, but let's be honest, your age and your sexual habits make you unreliable. You're strangely fond of our brother, which explains why you're here, but you're not his boyfriend, because you're more of a woman's man. You think you're so great, but in reality, you're just a relic who's out of time." Sherlock looked incredibly smug as he stopped talking, glancing at both M and Mycroft for confirmation.

 

"Oh, right, two can play this game." Not that Sherlock had said _anything_ that he didn't know already, but it was the _way_ that he had said it that had pissed him off. "You think you're oh so clever, but you refuse to admit that there are others who are more clever than you or better at other things that you're horrible at. Q, for instance, is kinder than you could ever be. You have a flair for dramatics, something that Q has adopted from you. You can't stand the idea of losing your brother because-" He tried to remember what Q had told him about his past, about his childhood. "-Because you lost him once already when he ran away. He told me that he didn't have any brothers he was close with because he was pretty sure they didn't want to know him anymore."

 

Before it could escalate even further, both M and Mycroft stepped in, both stopping one of the two.

 

"We're all on edge because we care a lot about our Quartermaster, but we shouldn't take it out on each other. We should try to work together and hope that that way, we can find Q- Sherrinford faster. After all, that is our main goal at this moment in time: find him." M said, mainly to the Holmes brothers. "I appreciate that you have come all the way over here to help us, but we are more than capable of finding him."

 

That was when Mycroft stepped in again, practically glaring at the man. "My apologies, _M_ , but you will take our help. This is an order." Mycroft didn't often reveal just how powerful he was, but if it meant that it would help find his baby brother, then he would use absolutely anything and everything he had at his disposal.

 

Bond glanced at M to see his reaction, but the man just lowered his head and nodded, sighing softly. "Of course, sir." The agent narrowed his eyes at his boss, not knowing why he gave up this easily. Was this man his superior or something? Mycroft did look like someone who was powerful enough to be M's superior. "Bond will accompany you to the scene where it happened. He will also protect you if anything were to happen."

 

" _What?_ " Both Bond and Sherlock yelled, their eyes wide with surprise before glaring at each other. They had hoped that they would be rid of each other as soon as one of them stepped out of the room, but apparently, they were doomed to spend some more time together. Great.

 

"I'm not going anywhere with them." Bond protested. "I am going to find Q on my own if I have to."

 

"007, you will do as I tell you." M looked at him with a stern look, not wanting to get in trouble because of the stubborn agent. "You are going to go along with the Holmes brother and help them find Q."

 

He couldn't help but glare at M, but nodded ever so slightly, knowing that he would get in trouble if he ignored a direct order like that. He simply had no choice but to go along with the two brothers.

 

 

 

\--~--

 

 

 

Bond felt highly uncomfortable once they had reached the last place that he had seen the Quartermaster, especially since both Sherlock and Mycroft were just going around Q-branch, messing everything up. The entire room was empty apart for the three of them, which was the weirdest thing to see, especially to someone who was used to seeing the room filled with people, running back and forth between Q's office and the exit. If he closed his eyes, he could easily see Q standing at his desk, ordering people around. If he closed his eyes, he could hear the man's voice as he saw him again after a long mission. If he closed his eyes, he realised just how much he missed his friend.

 

When he opened his eyes again, Sherlock was standing right in front of him, staring at him with one eyebrow raised, clearly deducing him again. Bond's glare immediately hardened, pushing his feelings away again. The other didn't need to know just how much he cared for his brother. He was pretty sure that Sherlock wouldn't really accept him as one of Q's closest friends.

                                                                                                                                                                 

 

"Stop just standing there and thinking about how much you love my brother and help us. We're looking for clues. You _know_ what those are, right?"

 

"Shut up, Holmes." Bond snarled as he stepped away from the man. "Are you not having any luck finding signs that your brother worked here?" He smirked ever so slightly before he walked past the two of them, straight towards Q's desk, where the man's laptop was still standing, all on its own. He hesitated for a moment - Q was always rather protective about his laptop, so he wasn't too enthusiastic to try and start it up - but eventually pressed the start button.

 

"What are you doing, Bond?" Sherlock said immediately, trailing after the agent and looking over his shoulder as he sat down behind the desk.

 

"Do you mind- I'm trying to check security cameras. If he was anywhere outside his office, then it should be recorded. And I think he was, he was running from those men. I think that he was somewhere close by." He then ignored Sherlock and unlocked the laptop. Q had given him his own password that would give him access to some parts of the laptop - like security - that he could possibly need when Q wasn't available. As soon as he could, he clicked into the files that stored the footage and he started to go through it all, groaning softly. How did Q manage this?

 

He was glancing at another part of the screen when Sherlock called out abruptly and pointed at the screen. "There!"

 

Bond glanced at the camera footage that Holmes was pointing at and yes, Q was in fact still standing there, clearly talking to someone. He was completely unaware of the man sneaking up on him and Bond couldn't help but call out a warning as a man placed his hand around the younger Holmes' mouth. (Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Bond when that happened, smirking ever so slightly.)

 

He couldn't help but grin proudly as he watched Q bite the man's hand before watching him yell - at him, back in the past - until the man hit him with a club, draped him over his shoulder and started to walk away. By then, Mycroft had joined them and together, the three of them stared at how Q was carried out of the building, dropped into a white van - of course it was a white van. They trailed the van as far as they could, but eventually CCTV cut out and they lost track of the car.

 

While the two Holmes brothers immediately started throwing places at each other where the people could have taken their brother, Bond couldn't get the image of the Quartermaster fighting with that man out of his head. He couldn't help but worry about him. What were they going to do to him? _Why_ had they taken him rather than M or Tanner? They were much more powerful than Q himself.

 

Before he could actually think about it more, Sherlock grabbed his arm and pulled him up until he was standing on his two feet. "We're going to the crime scene, are you coming or are you going to stare at that shot of Sherrinford forever?"

 

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He pushed himself up to his feet and followed the two brothers out of Q-branch. Well, off to investigate Q's abduction they went. That was something he never thought he'd do. It better not be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: James and the Holmes brothers try to solve the crime.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. It certainly has been a while, hasn't it?
> 
> I have plans to finish this story. I have ideas and hopefully, I will have the muse.
> 
> If you've been waiting patiently for this chapter or if you just discovered this, it doesn't matter. Thank you for reading.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it.

Bond watched as Sherlock hailed a cab -- much to his big brother’s dismay. (Mycroft immediately informed him that he could call a car – “a decent one” – that would get them there just as fast. Sherlock, in return, told him exactly where he could stuff it. The detective wasn’t planning on driving one of the government’s cars. This amused Bond, strangely enough. The detective didn’t get along with anyone.)

“Should I contact John?” Sherlock asked once they were all settled in the cab. James didn’t quite know who this John fella was, so he shrugged slightly, opening his mouth to say just that. “Not asking you, agent.” Sherlock interrupted him before he had even started.

“Have you told him about Sherrinford?” Mycroft didn’t even look at his younger brother, a look of disgust on his face. “I’m calling in Greg.”

“Oh n o, you’re not calling in Greg without me calling in John.” Sherlock protested – suddenly, Bond regretted having taken the seat between the two of them. He should have seen this coming.

“I have had the conversation you’ve been postponing, brother mine. Unless you’d like to have that conversation at the crime scene?” The older Holmes brother turned towards the other passengers in the cab, an eyebrow raised at the two of them. “I mean, your choice of course. You know how John will react, though.”

“Who are John and Greg? Obviously they are people you know and think would be useful in this situation, but who are they exactly?” Bond couldn’t help but feel stupid between the two clever men. 

“Doctor John Watson and Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade.” Mycroft informed the double oh-agent, as if that hadn’t been entirely obvious and as if those names alone should tell him exactly who they were. (Spoiler alert: they didn’t.)

“Right, of course, now I know who they are.” He should keep the sass down, James knew, but he simply couldn’t help it. It was second nature. “Dear Doctor John Watson and Detective Inspector Gregory Lestrade. How could I not have known?”

Sherlock glared at the agent, while the cabbie glanced at the three of them with an amused smile. “They are John and Greg.” (‘That’s much better’ – ‘Shut up, James’) “They are our—friends.”

“Oh. You mean they are your boyfriends.” James grinned smugly, picking up on what was left unsaid. He had always been rather good at reading people, it was part of his job, after all. He wasn’t just good with a gun. “You two got boyfriends?” Bond shouldn’t say a single thing, he’d had boyfriends too. But he was more. . . normal than the two Holmes brothers.

“No, they’re not.” – “Yes they are!” The two brothers spoke at the same time, contradicting each other as they did.

“Don’t call the boyfriends. You can take them on a date once we’ve found Q again.” Bond leaned forwards, tapping on the window that separated the cabbie from his passengers. “How close are we to the destination?”

“This is a date to them.” Mycroft mumbled quietly, looking out of the window once more. “We’re five blocks away.” He spoke up before the cabbie could mess with his GPS system to give them an answer.

 

\--~--

 

They really were only five blocks away from their destiny, because not even five minutes later, they arrived at the crime scene – the place where the van had disappeared. Sherlock got out of the cab first, followed quickly by Bond and the two of them ran off to investigate. Which meant that Mycroft was left to pay the cabbie. (Sherlock would hear more about that later.) The younger Holmes brother arrived first and he was the one who spotted the tire tracks – though a child could have found those too.

“The van had to brake rather abruptly.” Sherlock informed the two of them, his mind racing at the speed of light.

“No shit, Sherlock.” Bond rolled his eyes at the detective, ready to make another snarky remark. “Can you tell us something that’s actually useful, for once?”

Mycroft had joined them by then, glancing at the scene, though he walked away from the two of them immediately. It seemed as if he were taking an interest in other clues. (Or his brains just went faster while Sherlock was due to spend some time showing off. That was just who Sherlock was, after all.)

“Oh, and you are so much better, aren’t you?” Sherlock turned away from the tracks to face Bond – really, these two shouldn’t be put in the same room, all they would do was argue anyway. “I haven’t heard you do anything but ask stupid questions ever since we met. I’m sure that you haven’t even got the foggiest as to where to start looking for my brother!”

Bond let out a soft growl, stepping closer to the detective, pushing back the urge to pull out his gun and to stick it in the other’s face, in the hope of shutting him up. But alas, he might have a licence to kill, but he was pretty sure that if he killed Sherlock, he would be in big trouble. “At least I’ve been there the last few years! Where have you been? How well do you know your own brother? Did you know he has two cats? Did you know his favourite tea was Early Grey? Did you know that he has this ado—this habit that when he’s thinking, he sucks on his lip?”

“You didn’t even know his real name!” Sherlock raised his voice as he stepped closer. They were almost standing chest to chest. “You didn’t know he had brothers.”

“I didn’t need to know his real name. All I needed to know was what he wanted to be called. Which wasn’t Sherrinford, which wasn’t Holmes. It was Q.”

Sherlock didn’t quite know what to say to that. Bond had a point. The youngest Holmes brother had stopped texting him when he ran away from home, he had stopped using the name Holmes at that same time. But that didn’t stop the detective from caring about his little brother.

While the detective looked for words, Mycroft walked closer to them once more. “I’ve called the boyfriends.” It was clear that he didn’t want to stay with the two fighting men, because after that statement, he immediately walked away again.

Sherlock saw a chance to regain his posture in front of Bond, so he trailed after his brother to argue with him some more, mostly to yell at him for calling John and Lestrade. (Bond didn’t mind being alone too much. He was actually rather glad that he was alone again, able to look at the clues on his own. He had to admit that he was out of his league here, but he was sure that there would be an opportunity for him to point a gun at someone’s face. And he was pretty sure that he was a way better shot than either of the two men. Maybe he should just lay low for a bit, let the geniuses do their job so he could do his later.)

The two Holmes brothers were still arguing when another car arrived. This time it was a police car, which didn’t make any sense to James. This was an MI6 case; the police weren’t supposed to be involved in this at all. But then two men got out of the car, walked over to the two Holmes brothers and got them to stop fighting.

Ah. They must be the boyfriends.

Bond gave up on trying to figure out where they had taken Q and decided to join the crowd around the Holmes brothers. That was where the commotion seemed to be anyway. The short one out of the two newcomers turned to him and held a hand out towards him. His entire demeanour screamed fighter, so Bond suddenly had a lot more respect for them.

“John Watson, nice to meet you. Sherlock told me you were the MI6 agent.” The short man smiled at him and for a moment, Bond didn’t quite understand why he was with the detective. But hey, he wasn’t one to judge others relationships. He couldn’t even manage his own.

“Bond. James Bond. And I’m pretty sure that Sherlock didn’t introduce me like that.” The agent immediately felt much more at ease. This was a man he could talk to, this was a man who didn’t get him on his toes every single time they spoke.

“Well, no, but I’m summarising. Sherlock is rather protective of his little brother. Which isn’t something I knew before today. I didn’t even know he had another brother.” John glanced at Sherlock, sending him a soft smile. “Apparently, there are a lot of things I don’t know about the man.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the least.” Bond laughed, something he hadn’t done since Q had been taken. “You know, Watson, you’re okay.”

The man tensed up for a second as Bond called him by his last name, but immediately after, he relaxed again. “You’re not too bad either.”

Bond raised an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Now, are you going to introduce me to this other fine gentleman you’ve brought with you.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Greg, James Bond, Bond, Gregory Lestrade.” The police man joined the two of them, holding a hand out towards the agent as John introduced the two of them.

“Nice to meet you, James. Mycroft has told me about you.” The two boyfriends seemed to be not only much alike, but also much stronger in the field the Holmes brothers seemed to be lacking: they were able to manage emotions. And yes, it seemed that the Holmes brothers had a type. (But then again, he fit in with that surprisingly well, so once again, he wasn’t one to judge.)

“The pleasure is all mine.” Bond finally took Lestrade’s hand, shaking it with a rather firm grip, not unlike his own. “So how did all of you meet?”

John was about to start talking when Mycroft interrupted the conversation. “We know where Sherrinford is. We’re moving there now. Are you coming along?”

“Are you capable of not asking stupid questions?” Bond snarled, already walking towards the car. He was going to get his Q back, no matter what the cost. “Where will we be going?”

The older Holmes brother looked at Bond as if he wanted to repeat the question mockingly, but this one was above that. It was something Sherlock would do, no doubt. “We’re going to Sherrinford.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up:
> 
> A look at Sherrinford's prison.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while.  
>  I haven't really been writing much outside of twitter, a lot of school got in the way. (And a lot of doing nothing during the holidays.)
> 
> Anyway. I noticed that a lot of you liked this and read this, so here we are.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it~
> 
> (Comments might encourage me to write more, who knows~)

It was so dark.

When Q finally woke up, that was all he could think about. He couldn’t see even five inches in front of him, darkness simply surrounded him. He didn’t know how long he’d been out – he remembered being in MI6 headquarters, he remembered talking to Bond, he remembered the alarm, but after that? Nothing – but he hoped it hadn’t been long. The fact that his stomach was growling told him that it must have been at least a few hours, but he didn’t feel like he was starving yet.

The young Holmes forced himself on his feet and decided to explore the room, his hands held out in front of himself, in the hope that he wouldn’t fall over. B u t. As he took a few more than a few steps, however, he toppled over anyway. He faceplanted onto the floor and pushed himself back on his feet – or at least attempted to. His feet were chained to the wall, he soon discovered. So he turned around – fell over again, but he didn’t focus on that, of course not – and crawled over to the wall, trying to see if he could unchain himself.

He wished that he had paid more attention to both Mycroft’s and MI6s lessons about what to do when one gets kidnapped, but he had never thought that he would be in this situation. There were so many more important people at MI6 and out of the other Holmes brothers, it wouldn’t make sense to come after him either. So that explained why he was now tugging at the chains, hoping that that would work. (Spoiler alert: it didn’t. It only alerted the guards in front of his room that he was awake.)

He immediately stopped what he was doing when he heard a key in the lock. (He actually dropped the chains, which made a jangling sort of sound, which – obviously – alerted the guards as to what he had been doing.)

Q looked up at the soldier that walked in – he reminded him of James, the way he held himself sometimes – and looked up at him, his chin held high. He wasn’t going to give in to this man, to whoever had caught him. He was too determined.

Now he just hoped that his determination would last.

The soldier gestured at the others – Q could vaguely make out the signs of a Captain on the man’s uniform – who then proceeded to grab the quartermaster by the shoulders. They forced him on his feet while the captain knelt down to unlock some of the chains. Once that was taken care of, the soldiers started dragging Q out of his cell.

At first, he tried to struggle. At first, he kicked and he tried to free his arms from the soldier’s grip. That soon stopped, however, when one of them slapped him square on the jaw. (And that was mostly out of shock, not because he refused to fight. If anything, he wanted to fight even more than before, he just knew that it would be best to await his chance.)

He tasted something very similar to copper in his mouth – blood. He had bitten the inside of his cheek as he had been slapped, probably. He spat at the guard on his left, barely realising that he was probably just working on orders. All he wanted to do was fight as much and as hard as he possibly could. He wasn’t going to make it easy.

A few minutes later, they had arrived at a room, a large, empty room with nothing but one chair in the middle of it. Q assumed that it would be for him, but he was wrong; he was thrown onto his knees in front of the chair and ordered to “stay”.

He tried not to groan – his legs hadn’t been prepared to catch that blow – but he was unsuccessful. However, the stubborn man he was, he pushed himself back up on his feet. He glanced around the room, his head held high, waiting for anyone to come in.

“Make sure he’s on his knees!” A voice rang through the air and immediately, one of the men who’d been dragging him along kicked him in the back of the knees, forcing him down once more. The quartermaster fell to the ground quite violently, he barely had time to hold his hands out to catch his fall.

“That’s better.” The man slowly made his way into Q’s line of sight, his shoes shining from the shoe polish. “Now, what have we got here?”

Once again, Q raised his head and spat as hard as he could on the man’s trouser leg – based on the shoes, he had decided that he must be rather vain about his appearance, so that would at least annoy him.

However, he hadn’t expected the man’s strong reaction; he was grabbed by the hair and his head was tugged back rather violently. His line of sight fell on the man’s face.

“J-James?” Somewhere in the back of the quartermaster’s mind he realised that the man was wearing a mask, even if it wasn’t visible. This man couldn’t be James Bond, it was impossible. He knew for a fact that the double o-agent was safe, back at MI6. This didn’t make any sense.

“Hello, Q.” His voice was wrong, he knew that, he k n e w that, but still his mind was yelling at him that this was someone he trusted, hurting him, humiliating him. “What a surprise to catch you here.”

“You—” He started struggling, no matter how much that hurt him – Bon—the /man/ was still holding onto his hair but no matter how hard he tried, he didn’t succeed in getting free. It had been worth a shot.

“What are you trying, Q?” The stranger asked, raising an eyebrow at the young man. “You know that you can’t possible get away. Even if you escape /my/ grasp, there are at least ten guards in this room alone. You won’t be able to get away, quartermaster.”

“James—why—” Q was trying to phrase a sentence, but he was unsettled by the man’s face. After a few more stutters that never really became a word, he managed: “Why me?” 

“I want to play a game with some people you know.” He tilted his head, smirking. He then finally let go of the youngest Holmes brother and let him fall to the ground again. “Bring him back to his cell. I’ll be back for him later.”

 

\--~--

 

The man returned to him a few hours later with some food, which he placed in front of him, but just out of reach. Q tried to reach it—he tried his absolute best to grab the plate, but upon his return to the cell, they had once again chained him against the wall – but it was just out of reach. He could probably touch it if he was prepared to hurt himself, but he wasn’t that desperate just yet.

In a couple of hours, however, that might be a different matter. Until then, he wasn’t going to try and not anger James-- the man in the mask. He was sure that his friends from MI6 and his brother would come and get him again. (He had to believe that, it was the only way he would be able to get through this day.)

“Aren’t you hungry, Sherrinford?” James asked, slowly stepping closer to the quartermaster, a strange look on his face that Q couldn’t read.

“I can do without.” He muttered. He wasn’t going to allow this man to see just how much influence he could have on him. He would eat if he ordered him to, probably.

“A few more hours, maybe, but nobody’s going to come for you. You’ll have to eat at some point.” There was a smirk on James’ face now, one that didn’t match the usual gentle expression on the man’s face.

“My brothers will come for me. James will come for me. Do you honestly think that nobody cares enough to come and find me?” Q fought against his chains, trying to get as close to the other as he could, ready to spit in his face.

“How long do you think you’ve been here, dear Sherrinford?”

“A few hours at the most.” Q had a horrible sense of time as is, let alone when he is locked up somewhere in a cell. “They’ll be here soon.”

“You’ve been here for weeks, Sherrinford.” The man laughed in his face before shaking his head and making his way back to the door. “Are you still so convinced that they’re coming for you?”

A few seconds later, the door of his cell slammed shut again and Q was entirely on his own once more.

 

\--~--

 

There was a commotion outside. The young quartermaster could hear it and he strained against his chains in an attempt to see who it was that was there. It probably nothing – he had no idea who would come here except perhaps the police. Maybe they had finally found him. (He had spent the last few hours – or was it days – on his own, staring at his food, wondering why they had left him here for weeks. When James had been taken, he always made sure that the double oh-agent was back with them as soon as possible. He had hoped that the man would return the favour. Apparently not.)

“Q!” That was James’ voice, the real one, not the one who had been taking care of him. Q knew that the man could get him out, but for some reason he didn’t quite understand himself, he didn’t want him to. 

“Sherrinford?!” That must be one of his brothers – he thought that it was Sherlock, he had always been fiercer than Mycroft when it came to him.

“Here!” His voice was weak from disuse – not really, but he thought it was.

There were a few shots fired, most of them right outside his cell, while someone started to mess with the lock. (It would make the most sense for Sherlock to try and pick the lock while Bond held everyone at bay.) The door soon flew open, revealing a kneeling Sherlock with a triumphant look on his face as he realised that he had done it. Bond was standing there as well, his gun raised.

As soon as the agent spotted his quartermaster, however, he threw the gun into Sherlock’s hands and rushed towards his friend. “Q, here you are.” He said, relieved, taking his face in his hands.

One can imagine the surprise from everyone as Q crawled back from the double oh-agent, practically shivering where he sat. “I’m here.” He muttered. “Why didn’t you—why didn’t you come for me?”

“We’re here, aren’t we? All of us. Your—your brothers and me.” James reached out again, wanting to take him in his arms and carry him out, but the way that Q was trying to get away from him told him that it was probably a bad idea.

“Out of the way, Bond.” Sherlock said before Q could even reply to him. The middle Holmes brother knelt next to Sherrinford and picked the lock before either of them could say ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’. He then carefully scooped him up in his arms and carried him out of the cell.

They were going home now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, we will take a look at the rescue from the Holmes Boys and Bond's perspective.
> 
> And who knows, that might even be published soon.


End file.
